


Moulin Rouge

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Jim go to see the movie "Moulin Rouge." A little angst and a little romance ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moulin Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little bitty something that wanted to be written after seeing the new movie "Moulin Rouge" this afternoon. This story has some spoilers for the movie. Not betaed. You might get the idea from this story that I didn't like the movie, but that is not true. It was a visual feast. I highly recommend it.

## Moulin Rouge

by Pink Dragon

Author's disclaimer: They belong to each other. Try to argue with that! g

* * *

Moulin Rouge 

We're sitting in the brightly lit theatre, watching the credits. Moulin Rouge is over, Blair is tucked tightly under my left arm, the popcorn and sodas sit abandoned in the adjacent seats. Once the movie started we completely forgot them. I think somebody said one time, "What a long strange ride it's been." That exactly describes this movie. It started out weird and pretty much stayed that way. That's not to say it wasn't good. Just more Blair's cup of tea than mine, maybe. And Blair? He sat mesmerized through the whole thing. The 1899 courtesan/dancers strutted their stuff through loud, colorful, boisterous, frenetic dance scenes set to music by Madonna, Marilyn Manson, the Police, and the Beatles, fer chrissakes, amongst others. Somebody had be freaking high as a kite to dream this up. And of course, there are the requisite star-crossed lovers. I caught a whiff of salt not five minutes into the movie, and it wasn't from the popcorn. It was tears. Blairtears. And if there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's Blairtears. 

"Hey," I say. "You ready to go?" 

"Just a minute, okay? I wanna see who played Toulouse-Lautrec," he answers. He's holding tight to my hand, eyes glued to the screen. 

"John Leguizamo," I tell him. 

"Oh." 

"Ready?" 

"Um, not just yet, okay?" 

"Okay." So we sit there till the credits finish running and the theatre is empty except for us. And after a couple of minutes he sighs, squeezes my hand and gets up. 

"Let's go, okay?" he says. 

"Right behind you, Chief," I smile at him. We leave the theatre, holding hands and weaving our way through the people just coming in. When we get to the truck he climbs into the passenger side and I get behind the wheel, but I don't start the truck. It's almost 9:00 but it's still a little light outside and we can see each other easily. I turn toward him and take his hand. "Blair, you want to talk about it?" 

"Talk about what?" he answers. 

"The movie, Darwin, wadda ya think?" 

"No." 

"It was a sad movie, Chief, I just thought you might want to impart some of your wisdom." 

"Not now, Jim, okay? Can we just go home?" So we do. 

* * *

I come awake quickly in the middle of the night, knowing instinctively that something is wrong. Blair isn't in bed beside me, and his side of the bed is cold. He's not there and hasn't been for a while. So I send my senses out, and I can smell Blairtears again, and I can hear him downstairs. I breathe a little sigh of frustration and roll over and look through the rail at him. He's standing on the balcony under cold starlight, a blanket off our bed wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He's not moving. 'Ah, Blair,' I think to myself, 'I shoulda made you talk'. I know he's thinking about that stupid movie, and extrapolating the plot out of the movie and into our lives. I fucking knew he would. Now I've gotta go straighten him out. I grab another blanket off the foot of the bed, wrap it around my shoulders and go downstairs. I go out on our balcony, move behind him, open my blanket up wide enough to wrap it around both of us, and pull him into my arms, his back against my chest. "Hey," I say. 

"Hey yourself," he says softly, and leans back against me. 

"Whatever horrible things you're thinking, Blair, they're not gonna happen. It was just a movie, babe, it's not gonna happen to us," I whisper into his hair and hug him, hard. 

"But that's just it, man. You never know. One of us could get sick, one of us could get hurt or even killed on the job, Jim. theni'dbealoneagain" he whispers. Ah, shit. 

"But we can't live our lives in fear, Blair," I tell him, fierce and tender at the same time. "We have to seize every moment, and just love each other the best we can, for as long as we can. And if anything should ever happen to me, you know I will always love you. I'll always be with you, Blair. Always. You have to know that, babe." 

"Love you too..." he whispers, and turns around. His arms are wrapped up in the blanket and they get trapped between our bodies. He lowers his forehead to my shoulder. We stand there for a few minutes, my arms around him, tight, then I fumble around under the two blankets, find his hand, lace my fingers through his, and lead him back upstairs. He follows along after me like a sleepy child. 

"Think you can sleep now?" I ask him, after we're back under the warm covers, cuddled up together. He shrugs, and doesn't say anything. Hmmm, I decide it's time for an 'Ellison Special'. So I start caressing him, running my hands over his back, cupping his ass and squeezing, kissing him, deep and sweet. And he knows what I'm doing, and he lets me, not trying to reciprocate, cause he knows he doesn't need to, that this is for him. I gently push him over onto his back, and he goes, easily. I start kissing my way down his body, sucking his neck, and his nipples. Soon he's moaning and whimpering, and begging, so I give him what he wants, wrap my mouth around his cock and suck gently. Let him thrust up into my mouth. I take his balls in one hand and roll them, and squeeze a little and that makes him jerk. He likes that. I let go of his balls and lay one finger over his lips and he knows what I want him to do. He takes my finger in his mouth and sucks on it, gets it good and wet, then I pull it out, and slip it into his ass, moving it in and out in time with his cock thrusting into my mouth. And after a few long, sweet moments, he comes. 

"Aaah, god, Jim...." He's gripping my shoulders, tightly. I keep sucking him gently, till he's soft, and clean. Then I kiss his stomach, slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses. Till he catches his breath. 

"Good, babe?" I ask him. 

"That was good," he whispers back. I lift myself up so I can see his face, and he's smiling sleepily at me. 

"Feel better, now?" 

"Feel lots better, now. I love you, man." 

"I love you too, babe." I smile at him, kiss him, mouth, cheeks, forehead and nose. He chuckles at me, and I know he'll be okay, so I flop back down on my pillow, pull him close, tug all the blankets around us and wrap as many body parts around him as I can, and he does the same to me. And minutes later his breathing starts to slow, and then he's asleep. And as the smell of Blairtears fades from the air, I say a little prayer to a god I haven't always believed in, that what I told Blair was true. That we'll always be together, that he'll always love me. That I'll always be here to love him. Because if something happened to him, unlike Christian and Satine, in the movie, I couldn't, no, WOULDN'T live without him. 

* * *

End

 


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